Burdens
by Chrisii
Summary: Elijah's thoughts while he carried Nicklaus to his room between 1x14 and 1x15, i.e. after burying the dagger in his chest. "Nicklaus flinched and Elijah didn't know if it was because of the pain or if he sensed that the same hand had brought him such harm."


**TAKES PLACE BETWEEN 1X14 AND 1X15.**

 **Burdens**

Nicklaus was heavy in Elijah's arms.

Despite being of the same height, Elijah had seen his figure loom in Klaus' shimmering eyes just before his brother lost consciousness.

He was a monster; had committed an unforgivable act against his own flesh and blood - against his vow to always protect his siblings.

But he had protected Rebecca, hadn't he?  
How could one action contradict yet coincide with the same vow?

He could still see the betrayal in Klaus' eyes; it was as clear as his own self-hatred for what he had done.

For what he had been forced to do.

He couldn't bring himself to stand up just yet. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity to hold his baby brother like this - an opportunity that hadn't come across in the last thousand years. He hadn't cradled Nicklaus ever since their youth - more than a couple of lifetimes ago.

It was a moment to be cherished.

Cuddling had become a weakness in Nicklaus' eyes; even if it was behind closed doors. The arms of a stranger were infinitely more comfortable than Elijah's own, and much more sought.

At least Klaus wouldn't be surprised if a stranger's hand hurt him - if they stabbed him with a magical, horrendous dagger right in the middle of his chest.

Klaus had been so surprised to see Elijah's hand on that dagger.

The disbelief would have been a compliment if the raw anger and betrayal and grief hadn't been so clear underneath.

Elijah cursed himself for how well he could read his brother.

He was his brother; not an abomination, not a force to be eliminated or neutralised.  
His baby brother - the one who never truly belonged.  
The one whose body was twitching mercilessly.

Elijah could see Klaus' muscles tensing periodically under his brother's shirt, could feel Klaus' weak attempt to squeeze his hand into a fist - a sort of relief from the agonising pain that was ripping through his chest because of Elijah.

They couldn't stay there.

If his brother was going to suffer, at least he would suffer in his own home, in the home that they had built for themselves; the one which Klaus had stolen back from Marcel - the one which was never truly theirs, but they had never stopped trying to make it so.

After all, home is where the family is, right?  
Right.  
Family didn't stab each other in the back.  
Or in the chest, in this case.

They had to get out of the hospital - God knew what the witches would do if they found a comatose Original and a nearly deranged brother holding each other in the middle of an abandoned basement. Well, Elijah was the one doing the holding.

Klaus coughed, a whimper (more like a keen), escaping from his throat as his eyes rolled beneath their lids. They were already purpling with the pain, their tightness almost excruciating in Elijah's opinion.

Not almost.  
It was a recurring nightmare to see his family in pain.  
A night terror to be the one to cause it.  
A harsh reality now.

Elijah scooped Nicklaus in his arms, half-cursing his supernatural strength. He didn't deserve to **not** feel the burden of his brother's unconscious body. He didn't deserve to be able to carry Nicklaus as easily as if he was just a little kid who needed looking after.

 _He'd always remain Elijah's kid brother, but Elijah had no doubt that Nicklaus would despise the idea of people looking after him._

 _Or people thinking of him as a kid._

Elijah supposed that the contradiction of the lack of physical burden compared with his heavy heart was a punishment in itself. Klaus' head lolled against Elijah's neck lifelessly, his harsh panting dancing on his collarbone.

It was a morbid dance - a constant reminder of what he had done to his brother.

They were on the street now. The sun was a welcomed warmth compared to the moist and freezing air of the hospital, but the warmth would do nothing to melt the ice from around Klaus' heart. This time, they had all gone too far.

The car was gone, thank God. Rebecca and Marcel would have time to drive far away.

Klaus' head slid off Elijah's shoulder and hung backwards, exposing his neck and emphasising his current vulnerability. Anyone could just wrench his brother's head off of its shoulders and be done with it.

Elijah couldn't allow them to do it.

He gently manoeuvred his brother so that he was safely encompassed in his arms, tenderly pushing back his brother's locks in the process.

Nicklaus flinched and Elijah didn't know if it was because of the pain or if he sensed that the same hand had brought him such harm.

He needed to get them both back to the compound, now.

He made sure that his cargo-the precious cargo, despite all of its flaws-, was secure before breaking into a run.

At least his speed did something good.

* * *

Nobody glanced twice at Elijah as he strode into the compound, a shaking, sweating Nicklaus in his arms like a child. Nobody offered their help either, but Elijah saw Diego leave from the corner of his eye and appreciated the bowl of water and the cloth that he found in Nicklaus' room upon his arrival there.

Despite his insatiable need to hold his brother close and protect him, Elijah was glad when he deposited Nicklaus on the chair. He would never tire of holding his brother, of carrying the burden of his vow, but he couldn't bear the wheezing sound of his brother's agony right below his ears.

He was sure that despite the physical distance, the sound would remain echoing in his ears - even when it was not there.

The black shirt was soaked with blood; its smell nauseating and crippling. Elijah tossed the shirt across the room -he fully intended to burn it once he got the chance-, and then gently removed his brother's shoes and jeans. Klaus remained motionless if one didn't pay attention to the sharp rise and fall of his chest as the pain rampaged his body from the inside out.

Nicklaus was quiet in his pain - there were no screams, no twisting in the sheets, no groans. Only muffled whimpers and wheezes made it past his throat once Elijah set him on the bed and half-covered him with the duvet.

 _Nicklaus always slept on his side; it was unnatural to see him laid out on his back, hands immobile by his sides._

Elijah had to get the dagger out, but he couldn't do it on his own and he couldn't leave Klaus alone afterwards. He knew that Klaus would stop at nothing to kill their baby sister if he wasn't under supervision and Elijah had no desire to see another member of his supposedly immortal family die just because he couldn't protect them enough.

At least Rebecca was hopefully halfway across the country by now, preferably with Marcel to help protect her.

Elijah wasn't about to enlist the help of any of their lackeys; he wouldn't risk showcasing his brother -their supposed King- when he was down for the count. The witches were definitely out of the equation and so was Kieran; for the simple reason that Klaus was not all that favourable towards the priest.

Camille was the only logical solution. Elijah detested bringing in the human, but he did not have much choice.

At least Klaus wouldn't kill her on sight.

Hopefully.

A shudder went through Klaus, his breath hitching and stuttering before falling back in its rhythm.

Elijah could almost feel Klaus' hate like a tangible being in the room, coiling tighter the further that his brother remained in his agony - it was unbearable.

He called Cami and thanked the heavens when she promised she'd be there as soon as she could.

Now, all he needed was to wait for her to arrive and then he could out the dagger from inside of his brother's chest.

Then, maybe the guilt would start to ooze away.

As he stared at his brother's chest -heaving for a painless breath-, Elijah couldn't fool himself.

His vow echoed in his ears, a heavy burden but a loving responsibility. Elijah supposed that his noble character was his own enemy; he was destined to always pick up the pieces behind Nicklaus, but no one would ever pick up Elijah's own.

Klaus slept on, fitful and disturbed and so much in pain.

* * *

 **Hi guys! So, I haven't been updating simply because I am caught up with work and planning for kids and I was swamped and uninspired; this was brought on because I am finally binge watching The Originals and their chemistry is too good to pass up an opportunity to explore it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own The Originals and am not profiting from this.**

 **I hope you guys liked this little angsty drabble (This is my first The Originals proper story) and feel free to leave your opinions in the comments - I love to know what you liked best or even what you disliked!**

 **Kudos to you,  
** **Chrisii.**


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